Fate Links Thee to Me
by jennyfair
Summary: A collection of Leroux inspired EC vignettes.
1. Preparations

_A/N: The Phantom of the Opera and all related characters belong to Gaston Leroux._

* * *

**Preparations**

Christine waited patiently in her dressing-room for her Angel. She was never late for a lesson, always eager to receive his teachings. When her Angel appeared it was like having her father back in some small way, and it comforted her. Glancing in the vanity mirror, Christine smoothed her hair once more. She knew her Angel was not mortal and did not care for such earthly things as an out-of-place curl, yet she always liked to look presentable for him. After all, he left the beauty of Heaven to instruct her—it was the least she could do in return!


	2. Blush

**Blush**

"Christine…" He murmured her name and she smiled. "I am here, Angel. I am ready." "You did well at rehearsals today, child." Christine lowered her head, allowing her long hair to fall about her cheeks to disguise the blush that had crept across them. "You were watching?" she asked softly. "Yes, Christine," the Voice replied. "They do not know the gifts you possess, but I do. Soon I will lay all of Paris at your feet, if you wish it." The Voice paused. "Do you wish it, Christine?" She raised her head again. "I only wish to please you, Angel."


	3. Clair de lune

**Clair de lune**

They rode to the Bois in silence, moonlight streaming in through the carriage window. Erik would have preferred to keep the blinds closed but Christine had wanted them open, just another of many sacrifices he made for her happiness. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and, seeing that her attention was focused on the passing scenery, dared to observe her more boldly. Her porcelain skin glowed in the bluish light, reminding him of a child's doll. Erik repressed the urge to stroke her cheek, remembering how she had snatched her hand from his with a cry.


	4. Perception

_A/N: This is a follow-up to "Clair de lune"

* * *

_

**Perception**

Christine was well aware of his fixed gaze as they rode to the Bois. She often noticed Erik watching her when he thought she was unaware; it seemed she could never escape the weight of that golden stare. Usually she continued to feign ignorance until he looked away, but tonight she turned to meet his eyes directly. His skeletal hands clutched each other tightly, betraying his anxiety though the faceless silk of the mask revealed nothing. He hastily averted his eyes, his interlaced fingers still working away. Christine wondered what he had been thinking that had made him react so.


	5. Duet

_A/N: A little more than a drabble, but I didn't want to cut it down. For bee (sparklyscorpion).  
_

* * *

**Duet**

Erik stared at the boat's other occupant as he rowed steadily across the lake. If she sensed the intensity of his gaze she gave no sign of it, her own attention trained on the murky waters. A soft sound pricked at his ears and for a moment he thought the Siren had come to sing for them, but he soon realized it was Christine humming under her breath. His heart fluttering in his skeletal chest, Erik raised his own voice to meet hers. He feared that she would stop but she did not, and he even imagined that the corner of her mouth turned up just a little.


	6. Late

_A/N: Technically a drabble and a half. The quote is taken from Chapter 10 (__"Au bal masqué")__ of Leroux._

* * *

**Late**

As two o'clock neared I returned to my dressing-room to wait for Erik. I stripped away my domino mask and sighed, remembering _his_ death's head, a mask which could never be removed. _Poor Erik_. I felt an odd calm as I sat at the writing-desk and recorded all that had happened at the masquerade ball, as if I were merely awaiting a train and not Death personified. I thought of Erik's costume and sighed again—while the other revelers sought to disguise their true selves, Erik had revealed his own. When I finally heard his voice I smiled to myself—he always insisted so firmly upon my being punctual, and yet it was _he_ who was late! I rose to meet him, my smile becoming apparent as I half-teased, "_Me voici, Erik. C'est vous qui êtes en retard, mon ami._" There was a pause before he lifted his voice again.


	7. To See

_A/N: Getting a bit out of order here...it was bound to happen eventually! A bit more than a drabble._

* * *

**To See**

"Angel, when will I see you?" she asked quietly, her eyes lowered so as not to betray her anxiousness. She had been receiving lessons from the Angel of Music for some time now, and the initial wonder she had felt at his appearance had faded into curiosity. He was silent for a long moment and Christine feared that she had angered him and caused him to leave, but finally the Voice replied, "In due time, child." She nodded, disappointed with his vague answer but relieved that he did not flat out refuse. When she began her scales Christine made a special effort to sing as best she could, in hopes of pleasing her Angel well enough that he would one day appear to her.


	8. And Be Seen

_A/N: A direct follow-up to "To See," from Erik's perspective. About a drabble and a half._

* * *

**And Be Seen**

On the other side of the mirror, Erik still trembled at her simple request. Part of him reveled in the fact that Christine wished to be near him, but whatever pleasure he derived from this was quashed by the reality of what she was asking. To see him was to know the reason he had been forced to hide from her in the first place, and he dreaded the day she would learn the truth. Still, his arms ached to encircle her as he did with his voice, and as each day passed Erik wondered if it would not be worth the risk of revealing himself for the chance to be a man to her… But for the moment he remained her Angel, a disembodied spirit to guide her singing and comfort her in her continued grief over her father's death. That was what she needed from him still, and he so desperately wanted to be needed by her.


End file.
